An adolescent sparrow was chirping up a storm in the backyard demanding food from its parents. Once Betty realized that I wasn’t going to give her any of the Frosted Raspberry Pop-Tart I was eating, she decided to check out the sparrow ruckus. Betty wandered over to the racket in her basset hound way and took a little basset hound leap—barely missing her very first kill by an adolescent sparrow feather. That is what I call teaching a sparrow a lesson.